"You're a pleasant sort of chap," said the manager of the Rovers, as he bit off the end of a cigar and slipped the case back into his pocket. "Wait a minute, I have a match. Here you are." He held the light for Gallup.
"Purty good weed that," observed Ephraim, as he puffed at it. "'Spect that ain't no five-center. Must be ten straight or three for a quarter, anyhow."
"These are Silence's special cigars. He buys them by the box. They cost him twenty dollars a hundred."
"Whew!" breathed Gallup, taking the cigar out of his mouth and looking at it admiringly. "That's twenty cents apiece. I've paid that price out West now and then, but I never heard of any one paying it in this part of the country, where cigars ought to be reasonable. Guess this is just abaout as good a piece of tobacker as I ever stuck in my face."
"I'm glad you appreciate it. We're pretty near the hotel. Let's drop in and have a drink."
"Much obleeged," said Ephraim, "but I don't drink. That's one of the bad habits I ain't never picked up."
"Well, you can come along and take something cooling. It's pretty hot to-day. There'll be some of the boys in the billiard room at Priley's. You can meet them and look them over. If you don't care to drink, that's your business, and I'll guarantee you won't be urged."
"Waal, that's pretty decent of you, Mr. Bearover," said Ephraim, permitting the stout man to take his arm and lead him away.
In a few minutes they arrived at Priley's Hotel, known in Wellsburg to be the "hang out" of the sporting class.
"We're stopping here," explained the baseball manager. "The Franklin Square is said to be the best place in town, but it's a little too stiff for the boys. They can enjoy themselves here without feeling it necessary to put on style in the dining room. You know some of the fellows are inclined to eat with their knives. Such manners might shock the aristocratic patrons of the Franklin Square."